The Life
History of
ALICE
ALBERTIE GRIFFETH (GRIFFITHS)
written by
herself
Well, as
the Griffeth family organization is trying to get the life history of all, I
suppose it’s high time that I get busy and jot down a few things. My life has
been so unimportant, what can I write?
I was
born at Grandmother Perkes’ home at Hyde Park, Utah on November 3, 1886. The
old house is still standing somewhat changed, (March 13, 1949). I was the
eighth child, next to the youngest of George Andrew Griffeth Sr. and Mary
Elizabeth Thurman. I was next to the largest baby Mother had. I think I weighed
ten pounds. Mother was sick some time before my birth, finally having to be
taken from Fairview, Idaho to Hyde Park, Utah in a covered wagon, so that she
would be where she could be taken care of by sister Lucy Wolf. Sister Wolf was
the doctor or midwife, as such women were called.
I guess
mother was still sick when she found out that I was a girl, for she wanted a
boy who would have been named James Perkes for her stepfather, whom she loved
very much, and who was the only one who noticed the time when I arrived, in the
early morning. I’m sorry that mother was disappointed, but I have always been
glad that I was a girl.
They tell
me that I was a large, pale, serious baby with a lot of brown curly hair. In
one of mothers’ poems she mentioned her baby with her shining curls. As I grew
older my hair became very thick and long so that strangers sometimes noticed
and spoke about my heavy, long braids, to my discomfort, for I was shy and
didn’t like to draw attention. Sometimes I would stand with my back against the
wall if there were a stranger present, who might notice my hair. My hair was my
only mark of beauty, for my forehead is low, my eyes green, although my mother
was kind enough to call them pretty hazel eyes that matched my chestnut brown
hair. My nose and mouth are large and my chin short. My face is rather small
for my body, which has always been inclined stout, to my sorrow.
When a
baby, I had weak lungs, with several spells of pneumonia. I remember I had to
wear a little woolen shirt summer and winter until I was baptized. I was very
nervous and a poor eater, when a small child, inclined bilious. It was very
hard for me to attend school. It seems that I could not keep well and go
regularly. As I grew older, I grew stronger and having babies really gave me
good health. My trouble now is a lame back occasionally. I am five feet five
inches tall and weigh from 135 to 140 pounds, dropping down to 128 at time of
marriage.
I
attended school first in a little log house about a mile south of Father’s
homestead in Fairview, Idaho. I’m not sure, but I believe my first teacher was
a Mr. Jensen from Weston, an old man with a grey beard. When a class recited we
went to the front and sat on a seat which was nothing but a slab of wood with
wooden pegs, driven up through holes in the end of the slab, for legs. When we
little ones recited well, Mr. Jensen would lay a piece of peppermint candy on the
page and shut the reader. I surely felt proud when I could take a piece of
candy home to share with my little sister, Azuba. Several times a day, two
children would go down to Walter Rawling’s place a distance of about a quarter
of a mile, for a bucket of water, then it would be passed around and all of us
would have a drink from the same cup.
When I
was fifteen I started to attend school at the Oneida Stake Academy at Preston,
Idaho taking the sixth grade. I went to the Academy for six years. At the end
of this time, I graduated as a three year normal student, in 1907. I taught
school for one year at Fairview, then went back to the Academy and graduated
from fourth year normal, in 1909. That was the first year the fourth year work
had been given in the Oneida Stake Academy. We had been called graduates, with
only three years work up to that time. In the first four year class were Perry
Howell, William and Lewis Nuffer, Allabell Weaver and myself. After graduation
I taught one year at Dayton, another year at Fairview, two at Winder, one at
Preston East side (called Egypt) and two at Treasureton, all in Idaho.
At
Treasureton I had some pupils by the name of Griffiths. Their mother died the
June 5, 1915, the first year I taught there. I became acquainted with their
father, Frederick Griffiths, before the second year was over.
Here I
would like to insert a bit from my sister, Azuba’s, diary. We were both
teaching school at Fairview. We lived in a two—roomed house which had
previously been a school house. We had with us Leonard Erikson, a boy who lived
with father, my sister’s daughters, Eleanor Delilla and Zola Bodily, and my
brother’s children, Lillian and Thurman Griffeth. After the children would go
to bed, we sometimes would engage in nonsensical talk, when we were tired of
reading. After one of those nights Azuba wrote: ”February 16, 1911 Thursday.
Inside of ten years Albertie will be married and live on a farm somewhere in
this valley. But her husband will be awkward and ugly, but good. Thus as we sat
by the little old stove at our boarding room enjoying its warmth and ruddy
glow, Albertie revealed her future to me, has she spoken the truth?”
At
Treasureton, Kate Fjelstead, the other teacher wanted to tell my fortune with
cards, so this is what I wrote in my diary. “November 13, 1914 Kate told my
fortune. You have lots of friends. A light complexioned man is very much
interested in you but you are not looking his way. You are going to marry a
farmer middling complexion. Will be married within two years. Will be very
happy. He will not be bossy but will hold you in check.” Years before that at a
mutual party, the made up gypsy, Lucy B. Kent, had told me that I would marry a
farmer of middling size and middling complexion and that I would have five
children. Well, Mr. Griffiths was a farmer, five feet six inches tall, weighing
about 160 pounds. He had blue eyes and dark brown hair. Of course you know what
I am leading up to, There’s my man”. I had no idea of it at first, however, he
was so different to other men I had met. I did not have a thought that he was
looking for another wife and especially looking my way. Other people were
noticing and talking about it while I was perfectly ignorant.
I had
caught a severe cold and was suffering with Mastoiditis, and had missed about
two weeks of school. The morning of January 13, 1916, my brother Edward came
over and told me that he had seen one of Treasureton friends, who had inquired
about me. I asked who it was and he said it was Fred Griffiths, on his way down
to the temple to be married. I asked, “Who to?” He said, “His wife,” and
laughed. So to be smart I said, “Well, why didn’t he just take me along”. My
brother became very sober and said, “Don’t be too smart. You may have the
chance before too long,” I thought that was a good joke and I had a laugh about
it. In a little while my brother Delos came over and said about the same thing,
about my Treasureton friend. That made me a little annoyed so I said, “Did you
and Ed get together and decide on the little speech you were going to give me?
He said, “Old girl, I’ll bet you a dollar before the winter is gone that man
will ask you to marry him”. I readily accepted the bet and shook hands on it,
and said, “Now this time you’ve got to pay. You don’t squirm out of it”. I paid
the dollar.
We were
married June 28, 1916 in the Logan Temple. My brother, Delos, and his wife, Cloie,
going with us, as it was their fifth wedding anniversary. On July 14, 1917 my
first child was born, I taught school again, this time at Treasureton lower
district.
My
husband’s six girls, the baby and I rented a house about a quarter mile from
the school house. The oldest girl Ellen took care of the baby during the week.
We would go home Friday night and catch up with the work for Fred and his son,
Lafayette. We stayed with them until Monday morning. Sometimes, during the
week, they would bring us milk and visit a little while.
To the
first wife’s seven children I added five more: Edward Burdette, born July 14,
1917 at Fairview, married September 23, 1948 in the Logan Temple to Yvonne Levi
of Bountiful, Utah. (Divorced); Delmon Joy, born September 27, 1919 at
Treasureton, married June 30, 1947 In the Logan Temple to Kathleen Barfus of
Preston, Idaho; Quida, born October 3, 1921 at Fairview, Idaho, married June
10, 1942 in the Logan Temple to Bernon J. Auger of Glendale, Idaho; Zeldon
King, born December 7, 1923 at Treasureton Idaho, married August 9, 1945 in the
Logan Temple to Dorothy Povey of Clifton, Idaho; Thomas Frederick born April
18, 1928 at Treasureton, Idaho, married February 26, 1948 in the Salt Lake
Temple to Darlene Brough of Bountiful, Utah.
Now back
to my childhood. My first appointment in a ward was a member of the Fairview
choir. I believe I was fourteen years old, and did I feel big. I sat by Ida
McNiel and Nellie Gilbert, on the front bench by the organ. We sang alto.
Before that time a teacher , Miss Clemens, and Lottie Bronson had both helped
to teach me to sing alto with other children. I remember my sister Gertrude and
I singing, “Down in the Harbor of Havana”, when they were holding services for
the tragic death of the sailors who were drowned when the battle ship Maine was
sunken during the Spanish American War. I was twelve years old then.
When I
was about eighteen I began to work in the Mutual Improvement Association,
Primary, the Sunday School and have been busy most of the time since. In the
Relief Society I have been President, Secretary, Treasurer, Chorister,
Literature class leader, Teacher’s topic leader, visiting teaching and on a
committee for decorating f or funerals, in all about twenty—five years
In the
Primary I have held the offices of President, First counselor, Secretary,
Teacher of first group, Zion’s boys and girls, Seagulls and Trail Builders. I
had Trail Builders chorus in Treasureton which sang in stake scout meeting and
in the Logan Temple. I worked about twenty—five years in the Primary.
In the
Young Ladies Mutual Association I have been Stake Secretary, Ward President and
junior class teacher. In all I served about twelve years.
The
classes I’ve taught in Sunday school are, Kindergarten, Primary, Senior Gospel
Doctrine, about thirty years. I taught fifteen consecutive years before in the
Kindergarten at Treasureton before I left the ward in 1937.
I was
Captain of the Hiawatha Camp, Daughters of Utah pioneers when I left Preston
sixth ward. At present (1949) I am teaching Gospel Doctrine in Sunday school,
2nd group Zion’s boys and girls in Primary, and I am a visiting teacher in
Relief Society.
For
several years after my husband’s death, July 29 1937, I went out as a practical
nurse taking care of women in confinement. I never had any schooling along
that, except for a correspondence course with the Chicago School of nursing. I
was glad for what I had learned when I was caught once with my neighbor, Leah
Bennett. I delivered the child and everything went fine until I saw that both
mother and baby were OK, then I began to shake. I’m glad for the experience,
but do not care to repeat it.
At the time of my birth,
my parents were living in a rented house in Fairview, then they moved down on
the homestead and lived in a dugout or cellar until it became damp. We lived in
a neighbor’s granary for a while, then back to a grain bin and a shed, then in
a tent, and finally when enough floor was laid, we moved into the partly built
house. I do not remember the cellar, where they tell me I used to look down the
stove pipe and cry, but I remember from then on. My brothers and sisters
thought it a great joke for me to crawl up onto the top of the cellar, and cry
down the stove pipe, but father didn’t think it so funny. He told me once when
they had been laughing about it, “Your mother knew what made you cry. Your
mother marked you. She was so sad about leaving her home in Hyde Park just a
short time before you were born, she used to cry, a great deal”. Marked or not,
I was of a rather sad disposition and rather jealous. I felt that I did not
have any friends.
When I
was teaching in Dayton I felt very depressed at Christmas time. My father
noticed and made mention of it, so I decided to make a resolution. On New
Year’s Eve I wrote in my diary that I resolved to cultivate cheerfulness and
see if I could learn to subdue self—pity and jealousy and become happy. In a
year I asked father if he could see any change in me. I was pleased when he
said that he could. I think I can truthfully say that I have kept my resolution
but I did have to work hard and fight against my natural disposition to keep
from being a very lonely lady now that my children are all married and gone. If
God will just give me continued good health and then let go quickly, I will not
be a burden on my children, I shall try hard to keep young and cheerful.
I lived
in Fairview until I was married at the age of twenty nine. We lived in
Treasureton for twenty one years. When we lost our home there, we found a home
in Preston 6th ward, where we lived until about four years ago. (1945)
When the
two younger boys went into the service, I came out here to Dayton to live with
the two older boys on a small farm that Zeldon and Burdette had bought. When
Delmon married they moved a little house to the south of the other home. Zeldon
did some remodeling on the house and made it more convenient and cheerful. I
planted apple trees, cherry and peach trees, gooseberries, currants,
raspberries and strawberries, also a number of shrubs and flowers and now I
have a pretty lot. I should like a good house like other women have (I’ve never
had anything built for me) but that is out of the question so I must make the
best of what I have.
I have many happy memories of my childhood home, though humble it was one
of the best. My Mother was kind to her children and a very good homemaker.
Father was the most patient understanding pal that ever lived. Mother would
work for us, read to us and teach us the gospel. Father played with us. He was
never too tired, and seldom too sick, to give us a wonderful home—evening, when
we didn’t have a house full of company. He would get down on the floor and let
us little kids ride on his back. Of course we got bucked off, but somehow we
never got hurt. He used to play the violin and teach us to dance and sing. He
taught me to step dance and I was often asked to show off before company, and I
didn’t like it. He also taught a little girl name Amanda Adams and me to~ dance
the Highland Fling. We danced in a primary entertainment, and they asked us to
repeat it on the Fourth of July.
Amanda came up to see father baptize me on my eighth birthday. The water
was very cold in the large canal that ran through our field.
One thing I enjoyed very much was riding to the big gate, a quarter mile
from the house, when father went away then going down to meet him when he
returned, if we saw him coming in time to make it. There was two things we not
allowed to do, catch on behind a moving vehicle or ride a horse with a harness
on it.
I never heard a cross word ever pass between my parents, so our home was
very restful and happy. Though there was no scolding nor cross words, we knew
that we must obey. We wanted to obey for, we knew our parents lived as they
taught, and we had no desire to lie or sneak, so to cause them sorrow when they
were so wonderful to us.
We had a
pond where we could swim and ride a raft in the summer and skate in the winter.
Father sometimes let us ride him in the wagon when he was breaking a colt. Of
course he always had a rope on his foot so it couldn’t get the better of him,
and it must be rather gentle or he wouldn’t take the risk. I used to herd cows
and pigs a great deal, but I didn’t mind it much, especially when I had a horse
to ride.
I fancy I
can see myself as I used to look in the pretty little cheap dresses my older
sister, Eleanor, used to make for me. She often sat up late at night to crochet
edgings. My second sister, Irene, used to comb my hair and she taught me to
read and spell. I usually wore a red ribbon on my long braids and on the neck
band or choker of my dress. Our big event of the year I think was our visit to
Hyde Park to see our grandparents. We usually stayed all night. I remember how
we children usually tried to get out of the house before grandfather picked up
his newspaper or we would have to be quiet.
After our
breakfast at Grandma Griffeth’s, we could hardly wait for our parents to get
ready to go over to Grandma Perkes. We would go along the path by the
clothesline, past the beehives, past the pig pen, and through the stack yard
while father and mother went around on the side walk. When we reached Grandma
Perkes’s place how wonderful it was to swing the gate open and walk up the
plank walk to the house while the gate pulled shut with a weight. This grandma
was different from the other one. She was short with a lot of golden—silver
hair which she never covered with a cap. She didn’t wear earrings or jewelry.
She had a lot of flowers which she dearly loved. When her daughter, Aunt
Katherine Perkes Harris came out to my husband’s funeral, she said, “Bertie, do
as mother used to say, tell your troubles to the flowers.” We felt free to play
at Grandma Perkes’s home more than we did at Grandma Griffeth. I suppose it was
because she would play with us.
My main
amusement when I was a youngster, were Sunday School and primary entertainment,
surprise parties and candy pulls. We often parched corn and ate it with butter.
After eating until satisfied we used to play corn in the hand. One would take a
few kernels of corn and say, “corn in the hand”. The other would say, “send it
to Mr.” The first would say, “Who by”. The other would name the person. Then
the first would say, “Suppose he or she loves you,” The second , “suppose he
does,” the first “odd or even”. The other would guess and if guessing rightly
it was a sign that the person who was named loved the one who suggested the
name.
We
Griffeth sisters were often asked to sing in celebrations, and sometimes I was
asked to recite.
February
25, 1955, you my children, may write the rest but please live as I have tried
to teach you. I’ve been a queer old mother, often misunderstood by everyone,
except my father, but I’ve meant well. Since writing this history six years
ago, I like to add that my family have built on to my small house. I have now a
modern four roomed house almost finished with a bath room, furnace and an
electric hot water heater. Everything is convenient and comfortable. My health
is still very good and I’m still able to take care of my garden. (1955)
The
following few lines are taken from her obituary at her funeral. “She loved the
handiwork of the Lord, and took great delight in her flowers, planting and
cultivating the garden and her trees. She had a special knack to make things
grow. She showed us by example how to live. I never remember her even speaking
unkindly about anyone. She had trials and tribulation come into her life, but
she faced them with courage, and she never grumbled or complained. She was
truly unselfish, and always willing to be of service to those who needed her.
She had a great zest for life, and enjoyed doing many things well into
her later years”.
Two or three years before she died she was living with her son, Zeldon in
Montpelier, Idaho, and she expressed the desire to take a ride in an airplane.
Zed made arrangements and she had the opportunity to do so after she had turned
90, and she enjoyed it very much.
Albertie
passed away Hay 14, 1981, and at that time she had 24 grandchildren and 60
great grandchildren. She was buried in the Dayton cemetery.
